After the Awakening
by Singer of Time
Summary: Chell is once again standing at the entrance to the testing facility, and above her, the little robot that woke her up urges her forward. What are their thoughts, and what do they both think lies in store for the future? Short Portal 2 drabble for the beginning of the game.


((AN: So I'm trying another 1,000-word-a-day-for-a-month writing challenge, and this little Portal 2 drabble was the first thing to come to me. It was in my head for a little bit actually, what would be in the thoughts of the game's protagonists as they begin the journey: Chell back at the threshold of the tests, and Wheatley urging her onward.

Enjoy!))

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><p><span>After the Awakening<span>

Chell knew only one thing in the situation that she found herself in, adrenaline coursing through her body after the harsh awakening and the ride that she had just went through, and it was that she didn't know exactly what to make of the small robot above her. She stared up at him with no minor amount of incredulity as he was looking back at her expectantly through a bright blue optic and hanging above her on a rail that he'd used for movement.

The robot—which through her addled memory looked rather familiarly like the cores she tore off of _Her_ and burned one by one—was positioned in front of a now-very-wrecked Relaxation Vault. He'd woken her up from out of what seemed like a very long sleep, her memories of which were dim and consisting of several drowsy awakenings and scattered dreams.

She didn't even know how she'd gotten into that bed, or how much time had passed since. All that Chell remembered was passing out amidst the burning wreckage of a massive chamber and an insane A.I., and being dragged back by...something. She hadn't seen it; she was too exhausted, too hurt to move.

But she also remembered hearing birds. Feeling sunlight. Seeing the blue sky. She _knew_ that she'd done it; she'd destroyed _Her._ She'd escaped.

And yet...now she was back here, standing at the halfway point of a wrecked wall and a glass window back into a familiar room. She was back where she'd never wanted to go again.

The testing tracks. _Her_ testing tracks. It was about now that she wondered just what the little core's motivation was. Was he once a part of _Her_ like the others had been? Was he working for Her, trying to lure her back in?

But, GLaDOS—the lying, murderous A.I. that ran the facility—She was dead. Wasn't She?

Chell narrowed her eyes and looked forward slowly. _She_ definitely _had_ to be dead, or at the very least shut down. All of these plants wouldn't be here otherwise; peering down through the glass without having moved another step, she saw that the chamber looked dusty and brown, old and overgrown with vines and leaves. And of course, the entire facility wouldn't be about to self-destruct if She were still awake. _Yes,_ Chell thought with a grim sort of pride, _I won't be hearing from Her in there anymore._

"Yeah, it's alright. Go ahead."

She straightened and looked back up at the strange core again, her head tilted at the sound of his hopeful and very human-like voice, human enough to give her pause and curiosity.

He blinked and tilted his spherical body the other way. "I know, I know I _have_ painted quite a _grim_ picture of your chances," he amended, nervous and rushing his words, "But if you simply stand here, we will _both_ surely die."

Chell bit her lip and looked back down again into the pit waiting for her. She knew instantly that he had brought her there mostly to save his own hide, if that wasn't the _only_ reason she was awake right now. And thinking back on what the core had said during the bumpy, jaw-clenching ride on the way here, she was the last flesh-and-blood person left alive in that place. Somehow, for God-knows-how-long, Chell slept, but hadn't shut down completely like the roughly ten-thousand others.

Her expression softened slightly. Was she given another chance? It felt almost like divine intervention now that she thought about it.

But if it _was_ another chance—to live, to fight, to claw her way back to the memory of that blue sky and fresh air and birdsong and _freedom,_ then she sure as _hell_ wasn't going to let it pass her by; nor was she going to question where it had come from.

Besides, she _was_ getting slightly curious about the state of the facility below her. How much of those clean and orderly test chambers were now covered in green and dust? How much of it still functioned well enough to let her pass through? How far would she have to go?

The little blue-eyed robot was certainly eager enough to get her there, and he said he'd meet her somewhere ahead as well. Perhaps he knew the facility's state well enough to be sure that she could try. After all, he'd been in charge of at least the entirety of the Relaxation Vaults. She could take a chance at trusting his words; they were all she had to go on, and the girl figured that indeed he was working separately from _Her _wishes.

Chell made up her mind; and once she did, it was like her instincts were turned on at the flip of a switch. She was wide awake again, the Long Sleep left far behind. Her eyes narrowed with solemn and steady determination. A boulder that couldn't be stopped once it rolled.

She took a deep, steadying breath and gathered her focus, then unzipped the front of her blaring orange jumpsuit and took her arms out of the sleeves; it'd be very warm in there without anything functioning, and the air would be stifling once she got into the lower floors. She tied the sleeves around her waist and bent down to adjust the back of one of her new boots; she had to admit that these were nifty, wherever they'd come from, and preferable to having a metal brace in each of her calves. They felt like they'd be able to perform just as adequately, but a good solid jump from here would be able to tell her that. She stepped forward a few more feet and tapped on the glass.

"That's the spirit!" said the core excitedly, seemingly noticing that she'd made her decision.

Chell glanced back for one more look at him, the strange new friend that she guessed that she had just made. He was transparently doing this for his benefit as well as hers, but at least he'd woken her up. Given her that second chance, even if inadvertently. And she wouldn't disappoint him.

She gave him a small nod—her brain deciding that it still had to hide her voice from anything that had come from Aperture's walls—as a sort of cautious thank-you and turned to leap fully into the testing vault.

"Good luck!" she heard him call out amidst the crashing of glass all around her and even echoing in the eerie silence that followed, before another cheerful announcement came from the garbled intercom above.

Now to just find that portal gun.

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><p><em>Oh God I hope this works I hope this works this is the last one my last chance I hope this works please make it please don't die...<em>

Wheatley's mind was fully a mess, despite his (to him) calm and stoic demeanor. As he watched her, this certainly brain-damaged human that he'd woken from the cryogenic vault, he was hoping against hope that this one was at least a tiny bit more competent than the others. He hadn't had time to check around for her file; he had found her miraculously running on the Relaxation Center's reserve power grid and had gone in to instantly seize the chance at getting out of the facility before it exploded.

To tell the truth, once he had the time to think about it (and he did once he found a suitable management rail into the testing track walls), he didn't really know what to make of this human. She was the sixth try. He'd awoken five other test subjects just in the nick of time, all of whom were sleepy and jumbled in the head to varying degrees...and all of whom had died before they'd gotten the chance to find a portal gun.

But this one, on the reserve grid—_and how the bloody hell did that get activated anyway? Probably before I was here, wasn't it, they STILL never told me everything—_this human was different. The others at least spoke, while she could only reply to him by jumping (_has to be the brain damage, massive brain damage, has to be)._ But she still seemed alert. Hardened and focused. Something in her eyes when she looked back at him said that in this one was confidence and determination. Fearlessness; the other five had shaken in their boots or hesitated. But _she_ jumped right in.

That she had been fully alive when woken up...that she'd been the only one on the reserve grid...to Wheatley, that seemed like a sign. Maybe she was the one that would get him out of there. No...get them _both_ out of there. From what he'd known of the test subjects, they certainly liked risking life and limb for Science almost as much as they did getting blown up in the face or shot by a turret. If this worked, this extraordinary test subject too would be free to walk out.

He liked the thought of that. He'd have liked it better if more humans under his care would have been able to walk out alive, but at least he could prove to himself _(and to the bossy pricks up in management, thank you very much)_ that he _was_ useful and could do something right.

The Personality Core carefully navigated along the rusty rails behind the panels of the derelict facility, listening for the sounds of a human walking along inside. He'd been through the routes of the old testing tracks before, but recently they'd all been changed with time and were very corroded. Once or twice in the past, Wheatley had nearly gotten himself stuck in an immovable path and had to inch out slowly while dangling over a dangerous vat of poisonous acidic _something_ below him. He'd thus stayed in the relatively safe areas of the Relaxation Center unless it was absolutely necessary to traverse the boundaries.

Not that he'd needed anyone to tell him what was necessary. Except for a few other A.I.s milling around without a purpose, or the occasional strangely-insightful turret, he had nobody to speak to or to order him around. The humans were gone, dead or suspended forever in time with no hope of getting out.

But if this last human managed to actually make it through...now that would be brilliant. He _would _have someone to speak to, though he wondered if she could really speak back. But there it was; the possibility that for once he'd found one human that could be an amiable acquaintance. A good listener, perhaps. A partner in adversity.

Perhaps even a friend.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, mate," he reminded himself out loud, still looking around and listening for her footsteps. "She could still not make it; good possibility, very good possibility. Don't wanna get your hopes up. Oh...but what do I do then? What do I do, if she doesn't make it? I guess I'll have to try and make sure she does. Somehow. Relax, okay, don't panic...gotta find her, just gotta find her, work it out later."

The further on he went, he could hear many different things: birds in the overgrown foliage, sparks from old and tired machinery, and the droning of an announcer's voice. It was muffled somewhat, as the intercom could be heard the clearest on the testing track and not behind the scenes where he was. Wheatley supposed that it was pre-recorded and was chosen to replace _Her_ voice should _She_ ever have shut down while humans were still going on testing inside.

_Now THAT would have been ideal, _he thought, _What if I'd found the human that took Her down? He'd gotten out of this place before, could probably do so again. Eh, but what are the chances? Zip to none, really, considering my luck. Better just stick to what I've got. And she's what I've got._

But finally, soon enough, he heard the sound of a chamber-lock door opening and the rhythmic, thoughtful _clock, clock, clock_ of a pair of Long-Fall Boots. Wheatley followed it closely and led himself to a rail that ran adjacent to the test chamber. His bright optic fell on the girl as she took measured, thoughtful glances around, and he was impressed—nearly amazed, really—that she _did_ get further than the others.

"Hey hey! You made it!" he exclaimed, gathering sudden and rapt attention from her intense ice-gray eyes.

From that point on, there would be even more surprises in store for Wheatley. That she would not only survive a harsh fall, but _find_ the portal gun. That she can indeed survive a treacherous cognitive gauntlet, even under great pressure. And the most bewildering of all: that this dangerously clever, probably-still-brain-damaged girl _was_ the one that killed _Her._

There would be more in store than just another obstacle course for Chell, too. Trials and tribulations—but linking the two of them, the hope of forever leaving Aperture behind.


End file.
